


That Fateful Night

by graciegirl2001



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, FMA Secret Santa 2020, Hurt/Comfort, I really love Chris Mustang ok, Roy Mustang’s Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graciegirl2001/pseuds/graciegirl2001
Summary: Twenty eight year old Chris Mustang, with no husband of her own, and nothing but a rinky dink bar to her name was supposed to care and provide for a child. The officer must have made a mistake.
Relationships: Chris "Madam Christmas" Mustang & Roy Mustang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33
Collections: FMA Secret Santa 2020





	That Fateful Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for @justabookworm39 on Tumblr for the FMA Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange! Hope you enjoy!

It was all too fitting that it rained the night James and Mary Mustang died. That way it seemed as if the sky itself was mourning, as opposed to only a tired, and pained Chris Mustang.    
  
It was the rain that likely caused the accident. It poured down in buckets, obscuring the vision of two unlucky drivers caught in the same intersection. In the light of too-dim lamp posts they hardly stood a chance. 

James had died on impact, Mary a few minutes later from the head trauma. But by some miracle, there happened to be a survivor of the horrible crash: three year old Roy.    
  
The boy was in the hospital with a broken leg and a mild concussion, but the doctors believed he would pull through. 

The words "only relative", and "custody of the child" trickled dully into Chris' ears, as if they were grains of sand.    
  
Roy was all alone in the world now. And she- Chris T. Mustang- was expected to raise him.    
  
Twenty eight year old Chris Mustang, with no husband of her own, and nothing but a rinky dink bar to her name was supposed to care and provide for a child. The officer must have made a mistake.   
  
She was the least qualified person on the planet to raise a little boy. Surely any child growing up in a bar, raised by an unsavory individual such as Chris herself, would become a wretched being. Wouldn't they?   
  
Such was the reason she had kept her distance from her brother's family all these years. Every person involved with the infamous Madame Christmas had to be tainted in some way. James... Mary... and poor little Roy... they hadn't needed their name soiled as they started their life here in the city.   
  
Her company, Chris realized, still stood uncomfortably on the doorstep, raindrops trickling down his coat. Chris eyed him with distaste, wishing the water would simply sweep him away and off her porch.    
  
"He's waiting for you at Central Hospital; the nurses there can direct you to the proper room. We will provide you with the necessary paperwork whenever you are ready," The solemn faced officer adjusted his cap. "Very sorry for your loss ma'am, I'm sure they were lovely folks."   
  
Chris stared blankly at the man's too-shiny boots, giving no reply. When the weighted silence grew too lengthy, he coughed, and with a curt nod, returned to his sleek car.   
  
The rain had let up now, coming down only in light drops here and there. Chris longed for it to pour once again. Maybe then, she would have an excuse not to drive over to Central, and meet her newly orphaned nephew.    
  
But drive she did. The old car sputtered only once before kicking into life, golden headlights cutting through the dull rain. Something tugged her onward... down the street, through the heavy glass doors, and into room 135. 

The boy's chest moved up and down just slightly, shuddering occasionally under the chalky blue hospital gown. He remained asleep as the new visitor took a seat across from the bed. The nursing assistant eyed the empty chair closest to Roy, but said nothing. Chris sat frozen as the woman delivered a new dose of pain medication, and left the room, allowing the door to close with a click behind her.    
  
The machine beeped impossibly loud, and Chris became adamantly aware of her own rapid breathing. Meanwhile, the dark haired child lay in what seemed to be a peaceful sleep. For now, Roy remained oblivious to the catastrophes that would come into the light upon his awakening.    
  
For a while, she just... watched him.    
  
They were all alone now.    
  
The broken woman, and the orphaned boy; both torn away from the only family they had left. Now, with only each other for company.    
  
Chris didn't dare draw closer, for a reason she couldn’t explain.    
  
But she stayed.   
  
And as she stayed, things clicked into place.   
  
It was just the same as before.    
  
James had always been the favorite child, constantly the object of affection for their delighted parents. He was polite, where she was wild. Bright, where she was stupid. And when he announced the pregnancy of his wife they celebrated.    
  
At least she assumed.   
  
By that point, Chris was long gone.    
  
They had kicked her out at age seventeen, upon finding out about the bastard child growing in her stomach.    
  
Her parents had never approved of the father, for good reason, as it would turn out. He was miles away by the second month of the pregnancy.   
  
James had tried to plead her case that fateful afternoon once word got out, but he was a mere thirteen year old at the time, and was soon shut up in his room to "let the adults talk".    
  
They said their curt goodbyes the next morning. Chris’ small suitcase of belongings was placed against the wooden porch steps as she clutched her younger brother close. James, still, was rather confused about his sister’s surprise departure, but he wished her well all the same. 

Before he returned to the waiting arms of their parents, James leaned in, pressing his ear to Chris’ belly. She tensed. 

James spoke quietly, and she had to strain to hear the words.    
  
“Hey there little buddy.” He paused, thinking. 

“I just thought I ought to warn you… my sister is a bit of a mess.”

Chris frowned, and the boy smiled softly.

“She is headed out into the world now, and I'm worried she'll get herself in trouble.” James chuckled, splaying a hand against the still-flat surface of his sister’s stomach.

“I can't be around to help her anymore, so I'm kind of worried. She's the only sister I got after all.”

Chris shut her eyes, frozen to the spot. 

“Really though, I'm not worried at all, because she has you. You guys can be a team and look out for each other. Do you think you can do that little baby?”

James pressed an ear to her stomach again, nodded once, and returned to his full height. When had he gotten so tall?

“He says he will. No need to be scared sis, this baby is a tough one” He pursed his lips, eyes watering. “Just make sure to come and visit so you don't forget me, okay?”

“Of course.”   


“James. It’s time for your sister to leave now,” came the firm call from the front steps. Chris’ gaze traveled to the source and looked into her father’s eyes. 

The man winced and turned to go inside. Wringing her apron, his wife followed.

James pressed a swift kiss to Chris’ cheek and gave her trembling hands a squeeze. “I believe in you sis. Look out for each other. Love you.” With a rush of warmth, he was gone.

The child died stillborn.

And Chris Mustang was left alone.

_ ********* _

When Roy awoke in a panic the next morning, she whispered to him in low, gentle tones and told him how brave he was. When he cried, she held him, and probably cried too. 

And surprisingly enough, in the the lost and lonely four year old in her arms, Chris found that she wasn’t alone after all. 


End file.
